I think my infatuation with British Asian culture began three or four years ago, when Bobby Friction and Nihal started their radio show on BBC Radio One. In fact, it was some of the music they spun that provided me small glimpse into British Asian life. One group in particular The Sona Family and their desi remix of “Oi, Who’s That Asian Girl” got me hooked on this British Asian sound, and its accompanying slang instantaneously. I wanted to say “Bruv” in that accent, end sentences with “innit,” and have all “ma bredren know what I was chattin about.” Sure, it took awhile to understand some of the many references to British Asian life highlighted on the radio show and on the Sona Family track, but I eventually started to understand the lingo, and to the annoyance of many of my friends actually started to use (perhaps inappropriately) some of the slang.
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p>I thought after my religious following of the British Asian scene I was sufficiently well versed in the dialogue of the British Asian. So despite all the many British reviews mentioning the strange language, (linguistically inventive is how the Times Literary section described it) I wasn’t intimidated when I picked up Gautam Malkani’s recent work of fiction, Londonstani. As soon as Manish mentioned this book I knew I needed to read it, and so when I came upon it during a recent trip to India, I snatched it up.
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p>I turned to page one and simply put, the writing gave me a headache. How could one possibly write entirely in slang, in a “desi patois”, and get it published (and undergo a bidding war no less)? I thought it couldn’t last. Using “an” instead of “and” in every chapter? My head was pounding. I thought I liked the slang, but I found myself having to re-read paragraphs. I don’t like to re-read paragraphs, it ruins the flow. Was there an index? How were people supposed to read this? I know the American version has an index to help readers comprehend “the linguistic inventiveness,” but I got my copy, a British one, at Crosswords in India. And I can’t imagine how an Indian, or any person entirely unfamiliar with British Asian slang could understand half of the things Malkani “was chattin about” in the book, especially without an index.
“Hear wat my bredren b sayin, sala kutta? Come out wid dat shit again n I’ma knock u so hard u’ll b shittin out yo mouth 4 real, innit, goes Hardjit, with an eloquence an conviction that made me green with envy…”
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p>And that is just the first page. The writing reminded me of an instant messenger session gone on way too long. That being said, after I got into the groove I actually started to enjoy the style. Yeah, it was colloquial and the writing seemed to be geared towards the teenage crowd, but the dialogue, it made me laugh, and continue to turn the pages so it wasn’t all bad. The scattered second-gen desi references to Panjabi Hit Squad or Juggy D, and to Hip Hop and to Hindi/Punjabi profanities gave the text some familiarity, and despite my ongoing headache, made it somewhat fun to read. The style and actual prose aside, the book is important because it provides a glimpse into a segment of second generation desi life, not often delved into. Does the book provide an understanding of why some British Asians feel isolated from white Brits? Not really. Does it explain why some British Asians become radicalized? Not really. Malkani does include a few pages on integration and assimilation, which admittedly felt a bit forced, but I was glad it was included. In the end, Londonstani came off to me as a somewhat linear and funny portrait of a fictional second generation desi crew in the UK, with some funny dialogue and some interesting twists. Nothing more, nothing less. Still, it makes for a good timepass.
Nirpal Dhaliwal. This charming man.
I didn’t mind the way it was written, beyond that it was too blatantly blueprinted, in writing and plot construction, off Irvine Welsch. The out-of-place economics lectures got really jarring. I know the guy’s an editor at the Financial Times, but he should have separated work from writing a bit more. That ending… IT COULD HAVE BEEN BETTER……
Rudeboy culture has been around in the uk for years and it is there to stay. The language used in the book is not just restricted to Punjabi’s let alone Asians…increasingly there are more and more white kids emulating this ‘street talk’ or text message talk. the book i agree was a refreshing change from the immigrant experience and arranges marriage woes and as a Brit sa few references to the characters lives were things i could draw on or had seen.
apkapita: Maybe, one day I will have the ability to write a post without using timepass.
On the whole use of slang versus non slang: I think it is up to each author to write in whatever style they want. If the consumer chooses to buy the product than so be it. Vikram Chandra said he wrote Sacred Games for himself and his family who experienced some of the things that inspired the book. I rather like his peppering of prose with some Mumbai slang every now and again.
With Londonstani, I thought it would be interesting had the slang been introduced selectively rather than the whole book. I thought Jas as narrator could have at least been written without the use of the “desi patois.”
Now,there’s a recipe that seems to have worked.
Authors should of course be free to write as they please. But the style should evolve directly from the content, and literary devices/techniques should be necessary to tell the story effectively. They should not be pyrotechnics used to disguise, like special effects in a bad movie.
‘Everything should be made as simple as possible, but not simpler.’ -Einstein
It’s easy to mock Ajit’s sentiment that they hadn’t done their homework…but there’s a more serious point, that these ‘rudeboys’ are just harming themselves with their attitude. By not caring about school, and not looking to the future, they are condemning themselves to a lifetime of economic struggle (and marginal economic status). They’re the ones who’ll suffer in the end. But yes it’s possibly also true that there might not be a whole lot of opportunities in the UK anyway (any comments on that, Red Snapper?).
Amitabh, If humanity wasn’t flawed the museums, libraries, and concert halls would be empty.
It’s one of the themes in the novel. How to escape a lifetime of drudgery working at Heathrow airport.
i actually really enoyed the west london slang in the book… that amalgamation of west indian rudeboy swagger and punjabi hardass/momma’s boy thing is one of the cultural tenets of underground London that help to explain why so much intereesting, cross-cultural, cross-identity things come out of there. It also means that i have to spend the last 30 mins of the flight into heathrow practicing how to big up all my manz dem in leeds without sounding like a yankee wanka.
so the slang, yes. the story in general and the whizzbanger of an ending? not so much.
Nice to see lots of folks standing up for Gautam Malkani. But, he is nowhere as talented as Monica Ali when it comes to toying with the language:D
Red, you say that and then this:
Meaning that you actually got to the end and found out who the narrator was. So WTF? Have I missed something?
Despite that, I luuurrved the book, especially the slang though I generally cannot abide reading books in dialect. (Their Eyes Were Watching God – like, two pages and i had to stop). The economics lecture in the middle didn’t make a lot of sense but all you haters, man, don’t have to take it so seriously. it’s hard for any book to live up to its hype.
xoxo, mallu newbie from toronto